


good luck kiss

by sunsetozier



Series: tumblr prompts [6]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill, eddie is not a makeup artists but he'd do anything for richie so he tries his best, richie is in the school musical and asks eddie to do his makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 10:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15580326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetozier/pseuds/sunsetozier
Summary: “I think luck is real,” he finally settles on saying, and he doesn’t mean for his voice to come out as soft and as sheepish as it does. Twisting his fingers together in his lap, he stares as Eddie glances up and meets his gaze curiously. With a small smile, he says, “And I mean it, by the way. You’re my good luck charm, Eds. Not just with the show, but in general. Like… things just got better once I met you.”[In which Richie is the lead in the school play and Eddie is a member of the stage crew who works in the light booth and has no clue how makeup works, but Richie asks him for help with his makeup anyway.]





	good luck kiss

**Author's Note:**

> sara (richietoaster) requested:
> 
> _what about richies in a play and eddies the stage crew person who does makeup and they’ve been flirting through the entire production practices and whatnot and so eddies fixing his makeup for opening night and richies like “you’re so close to my face this could be the perfect opportunity to kiss me. Yanno for good luck and shit” And eddie nudges at his face and leans in and right as their lips are gonna touch he’s like “no can do sweetheart, you mess this makeup up and I’ll kill you” ___
> 
> __i changed it around a little because i feel like making eddie the makeup artist is too ooc for him so i made him a light booth person who helps richie with his makeup because richie asked him to and he doesn't really know what he's doing but he tries his best and it turns out alright._ _

            “You know I’m not a makeup artist, right? I have no fucking clue how this shit works. You’re probably gonna look like a god damn clown out there.”

            Richie grins (an action that makes Eddie huff in frustration, because he was _trying_ to add blush, for god’s sake) and cocks an eyebrow. “I know,” he answers breezily, “but you’ve been helping me with makeup at every rehearsal. I trust you to make me pretty.”

            Letting out a dry snort, Eddie leans back far enough to give Richie an amused look and states, “No amount of makeup can make you pretty, Trashmouth.”

            “Oh, _ouch_ ,” Richie hisses, placing a hand over his heart and jutting out his lower lip in a childish pout. “Eds, Eddie, baby- that _hurt_. That was _painful_.”

            “You’ll live,” Eddie deadpans, though his eyes are still alight as he reaches forward and grips onto Richie’s chin to keep him still. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but the show starts in fourty-five minutes and you need to be out there for mic check in ten—”

            “Thank you ten,” Richie instinctively says, only to flinch and flash an apologetic smile for interrupting.

            Eddie rolls his eyes, biting back a grin. “The point is, if you want this done, the least you can do is stop moving and don’t distract me. If you can’t do that, I’m gonna get Mike and he can do the rest. It’d probably look better if he did it, anyway.”

            Again, Richie pouts, but quickly sucks his lower lip back in when Eddie’s eyes narrow down into a half-hearted glare. “You can’t leave me, Eds,” he whines, though he makes sure he stays as still as he possibly can while he’s talking, knowing that they really do have a time limit and he can’t be late for mic check on their first night, or else Beverly will chew his ass out. “You’re my good luck charm! I’ve only messed up _once_ during rehearsals, and it was the day you were home sick. If you leave, then I won’t have my good luck and I’ll fuck it all up and opening night will go to shit!”

            “Luck isn’t real,” Eddie tells him with a shrug, he features smoothing out into something a bit more soft and a bit more fond. He releases Richie’s chin and picks up the blush brush again, his brows pinched together in concentration as he lightly applies it to Richie’s cheeks. With a slow blink, Richie opts not to respond, instead watching intently as Eddie’s face hovers merely inches away from his own, scanning over the splattering of freckles against his cheeks and the slope of his nose, seeing the light reflecting in his stunning grey eyes and the way strands of soft blond hair brush over his temples. Setting the blush down and picking up the mascara, Eddie offers a wide smile and adds, “That means good luck _and_ bad luck, though. Besides, you know your shit, Tozier. I’ve never seen you work this hard for something before. You’re gonna do great, Rich.”

            Richie parts his lips, but no words come to mind just yet, so he waits and blinks when Eddie tells him too, feeling the way his eyelashes stick together as the mascara is applied. Once that’s done, he follows Eddie’s movements as he starts searching through the rest of the makeup splayed out on the counter of the dressing room. “I think luck is real,” he finally settles on saying, and he doesn’t mean for his voice to come out as soft and as sheepish as it does. Twisting his fingers together in his lap, he stares as Eddie glances up and meets his gaze curiously. With a small smile, he says, “And I mean it, by the way. You’re my good luck charm, Eds. Not just with the show, but in general. Like… things just got better once I met you.”

            For a long moment, Eddie doesn’t respond, his gaze flickering back and forth from Richie’s eyes with a neutral expression, and Richie knows he probably shouldn’t have said that – knows that there’s a difference between the joke-flirting they do and the genuine-flirting he sometimes throws in the mix – but it’s too late to take it back and he’s kind of glad he put it out there. Eventually, Eddie’s lips twitch into a small smile and he steps back into Richie’s space with a soft pinkish-red lip gloss in his hand. “You know the drill,” he says, not addressing the slight tension in the room now. Obediently, Richie parts his lips and lets Eddie apply the gloss gently, with much more care than he’s shown with any of the other make up thus far. “There,” he murmurs, capping the lip gloss and set it back on the counter before nodding to himself, though he makes no move to back away.

            “You know what would give me extra good luck?” Richie asks, feeling his heart thud in his chest as Eddie pointedly glances between his eyes and his lips. Eddie hums, a glint in his eyes like he knows exactly what Richie is going to say. Swallowing thickly, feeling nerves buzzing beneath his skin, he breathes out, “A kiss from my good luck charm.”

            “Oh, really?” Eddie questions quietly, letting out a little laugh that tickles over Richie’s face. Wordlessly, Richie nods, his eyes bright as Eddie leans forward to bump there noses together lightly, and he can feel Eddie’s breath against his lips, so little space between them, but Eddie doesn’t close that space, no – instead, Eddie freezes, grinning a wide, wicked grin, and he says, “Maybe if I didn’t just put that lip gloss on you, I would, but there’s no way I’m ruining your make up.”

            “We can just reapply the lip gloss,” Richie rushes out, his hand reaching forward to grin onto Eddie’s hip before he can back away. He blinks at Eddie, knowing that he looks desperate, but he doesn’t care as he leans his forehead against Eddie’s and quietly begs, “ _Please_ , Eds?”

            Eddie falters, bringing his hands up to cradle Richie’s face in his palms, his grin softening into a cute little smile. For a second, Richie thinks he’s going to do it, thinks he’s going to finally kiss the boy he’s been wanting to kiss for nearly a year now, but then Eddie uses his hold on Richie’s face to turn his head to the side and press his lips to the curve of Richie’s cheekbone. “After the show,” Eddie promises as he leans back slightly, looking reluctant when he drops his hands and lets his arms hang at his sides. Nodding towards the dressing room door, he states, “Mic check started two minutes ago.”

            Both elated and a little disappointed, Richie mumbles, “Okay,” and pushes himself to his feet, giving Eddie one last longing look before turning around and making his way to the door. He’s just about to turn the doorknob when he feels fingers wrap around his wrist to stop him, and when he looks back, Eddie is staring at him with so much want glistening in his eyes that Richie’s heart stutters in his chest.

            “You’re gonna kick ass, Richie,” Eddie tells him, swallowing roughly before flashing a wide, supportive smile. “I’ll be rooting for you from the light booth the whole time, and as soon as the show’s over and you get off that stage, I swear to god I’m going to kiss you, okay? Cross my heart.”

            When Richie finally makes his way to the stage for mic check, he can’t be bothered to apologize for being late, not even when Beverly – as expected – starts ranting to him about needing to be punctual for these things. Nothing, not even opening night jitters or angry castmates, can lessen his mood right now. After all, he’s got a kiss from the cutest boy in the world to look forward to.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think and send me more requests/hmu on tumblr @ sunsetozier!! :D


End file.
